


Nearly One-sided Conversation

by ManyIdleThoughts



Category: God Eater (Video Games)
Genre: Conversations, Eric just talks, Gen, Mostly takes place before the game, Soma voice: we're not friends, Tattoos, so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23457478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManyIdleThoughts/pseuds/ManyIdleThoughts
Summary: Eric's excited about getting another tattoo on his birthday. Soma knows better than to ask questions because Eric will never shut up if he does. And then Soma ends up asking questions anyway. Some things are easy to forget.
Relationships: Soma Schicksal & Eric der Vogelweid
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Nearly One-sided Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Did they make Eric’s birthday the day after April Fools because he’s a joke character?

If you let him, Eric can and will talk for hours about unimportant things. And if you asked him questions, that was just an invitation for him to talk even more. The best way to actually get Eric to leave you alone was to tune him out while he rambled on until someone wanted his attention, usually a co-worker (or Erina, if she was visiting).

For Soma, doing that was as natural as breathing. But every once in a while, he forgot.

“So I was thinking of getting another tattoo on my birthday,” Eric said, “as a gift to myself!” Soma looked him over because Eric already _had_ a bunch of elaborate tattoos on his upper body. And he still wanted to get more?

“...where would you even put it?” Soma asked, idiot that he was. He realized his mistake only after he had asked and cursed under his breath. Eric laughed, probably happy that Soma had said something when he usually didn’t.

“Well, there’s no point in getting a new tattoo if I’m not going to show it off.” Eric said. “Of course, I don’t really own any shorts myself, but I went shopping with Erina just the other day, and she’s just the sweetest little sister in the world. Normally I just get her whatever she wants and whatever _I_ thought would look cute on her, but that day, she picked something out for _me_! Oh, it warmed my heart! So I bought it immediately, and now I’ve gotta make sure I get the perfect tattoo to complement the first time Erina picked something out for me. She’s got such an eye for flair nowadays; I can’t wait to see how she hones her sense for fashion!”

...that didn’t even answer Soma’s question. It’s practically a talent that Eric can go on and on about nothing.

“So…?” Soma vaguely gestured. Wait, he could’ve just ignored him. Why didn’t he ignore him?

“Huh?” Eric asked. “Oh, right! I’m going to get a new tattoo on my thigh.” Well, it was probably common sense that Eric would get one somewhere on his legs. Soma shouldn’t have wasted his own time. “And I was thinking of using these kanji for the design!” Eric pulled out a piece of folded paper from his pocket.

“I don’t actually ca-…?” Soma froze when Eric unfolded it to show him the kanji.

The kanji read, ‘whore.’ 

Wait, maybe Soma read it wrong.

No, these were absolutely the characters for ‘whore;’ there was no mistaking it. Why would…?

“Wow, you’re speechless.” Eric said. “I mean, normally you never talk very much at all, but this is different. It must be because I have such an amazing eye for this kind of thing! Don’t let me hold you back, then. You may continue being awed!”

“D-...do you not know what this says?” Soma asked. He knows Lindow pushed Eric onto him because ‘You’re fluent in German, right? He might need your help with translating, so look after him,’ but Eric’s Japanese was flawless. It was the first thing Soma noticed when Eric tried to make conversation with him. There’s no way Eric didn’t kn… 

Well, no, just because Eric was great at speaking Japanese didn’t mean he knew every kanji he came across…

“No, but it looks _really_ nice, right?” Eric asked. Soma’s not sure what expression he’s making, but Eric seemed discouraged by it when he said, “i-is it really offensive or something? But…oh, I suppose it must be _really_ bad...”

“It’s...it’s not something you want on your thigh.” Soma said. “I’d strongly recommend something else.” Anything else.

Not that it really mattered to Soma what Eric wanted to do with his body. 

Still, he’d rather not deal with Eric walking around the Den in shorts with the word, ‘whore,’ carved into his thigh forever. He just knows everyone’ll blame him for this even though every stupid decision Eric makes isn’t Soma’s responsibility.

“That’s a shame...” Eric said. “But I did have a second option!” He pulled out another piece of folded paper, but this one was a different color from the first. “Tell me what you think!”

“I don’t ca-that’s even worse.” Soma said as soon as he saw it.

The second option read, ‘fuck me.’ It was so comically awful that Eric _had_ to be doing this on purpose. How did anyone even make a mistake that terrible if it wasn’t intentional?

“What, this one’s no good either?” Eric asked, completely oblivious to the headache he was giving Soma right now. Tattoos were permanent, weren’t they? Was Eric really brainless enough to put words he didn’t know on his skin for the rest of his life?

“I think you should just avoid kanji.” Soma advised. “...actually, avoid using any Japanese at all.”

“Well, why don’t you help me pick out a new design, then?” Eric suggested. “Since you don’t seem to like either of these and all....”

But Soma didn’t _care._

“If you have the leisure to contemplate your birthday plans, then you should spend some time at the shooting range.” Soma said. “You’re not _Kanon,_ at least, but the closer to zero your friendly fire rate is, the better.” Soma collected his things and got up to take his leave. “And I’ve got my own plans, so ask someone else.”

Or really, don’t ask anyone. Why should someone else have a say on something that was going on _your_ body? That should be your own decision!

“I suppose I’ll have to e-mail you my other ideas later, then!” Eric decided, smiling brightly and doing whatever he wanted while Soma internally groaned. “Of course, I’d look magnificent no matter the design!”

* * *

Eric wrote him a lengthy e-mail (because Eric was talkative even in the electronic written form) with three images attached. Each image was a design of the tattoo Eric was considering and how it might look when it was put on his thigh. Eric said he’d drawn these up himself in between target practice and writing reports. They were all so detailed that Soma almost asked him if he had designed the ones on his upper body too. But Soma wasn’t about to repeat his earlier mistake in e-mail form.

At the end of the message, Eric said he was struck by inspiration, so he’ll probably go with the design he just thought up.

...if Eric was just going to end up deciding on his own anyway, then why bother Soma with something like this in the first place?

That idiot.

* * *

After Eric’s birthday (and more than one tattoo appointment), Soma (and everyone else in the Den) got to see the gunner in a sleeveless red hoodie with the black shorts that Erina picked out, revealing the tattoo design Eric chose. 

Despite saying that he was getting a tattoo on his thigh, Eric had new tattoos on both of his legs. While the ones on his upper body were mostly sharp and angular, the ones on his lower body were dull and curvy, swirling over his thighs and down till they hid under his boots. Soma’s not sure how high or how low the tattoos go, but he knows the ones that hide under Eric’s gloves don’t go too deep, so the ones on his legs probably went only slightly higher than mid-thigh and dipped a little underneath his boots. They reminded Soma of black ribbons, wrapping and clinging, drawing attention to the unmarked stretches of skin on Eric’s inner thighs. 

Frankly, they were kind of distracting.

“What do you think?” Eric asked Soma first for reasons Soma neither understood nor cared enough to want an answer for. “Are they not magnificent?”

“What are they supposed to _be_?” Soma asked, like a fool who hadn’t learned his lesson.

“I’m glad you asked!” Eric said, gesturing to his legs with a flourish. “I read something once about these vines that grew around ancient marble columns and produced the loveliest flowers! I don’t remember what they were called, but the plants themselves were hardy, resourceful little sprigs. They adapted to their surroundings and had a tenacity to survive no matter how harsh the frost, climbing ever higher to reach new heights! And when their buds bloom, they rival even the roses of Germany in beauty! What else could represent House der Vogelweid so accurately?!”

Vines, huh? Soma _did_ wonder why Eric didn’t have any flowers despite going on and on about how lovely they were, though.

...not that he would ask.

“I can see that you’re stunned into awe.” Eric said, nodding to himself. “It’s okay, take all the time you need to process the sheer _genius_ that I’m capable of.”

“Well, it _is_ better than the kanji or those other designs.” Soma said.

“Ah, so you read my e-mail?” Eric asked, too cheerful for Soma’s preference. It was a pointed kind of cheerful, the kind that seemed to suggest things Soma would disagree with. “You never reply to anything that isn’t work-related, so I didn’t think… Hmm, actually,” Eric looked away, suddenly nervous, “you’re probably upset that I just went ahead with this design instead of waiting for your input, huh?”

No. Soma didn’t care.

“Let me offer you my sincerest apologies, then!”

Whatever Eric was going to suggest as an apology, Soma was ready to refuse.

“Oh, Eric,” Sakuya said, looking him over as she entered the Den, “are you trying a new look?”

“Indeed!” Eric confirmed, thankfully turning his attention to her so that Soma could slip away. “Erina helped me choose my outfit for the day. Does she not have impeccable taste?”

Soma can hear Sakuya laugh amicably, complimenting both Eric and Erina’s taste as he leaves them to idly chat. Soma wondered if she’s just being polite or if she really did like it. Soma wasn’t really a fan, himself.

Not that that mattered, since Eric could and _did_ do whatever he wanted anyway.

* * *

The next day, Eric went back to wearing his usual outfit, hiding his new tattoos under his knickers. For the next several days, he didn’t wear anything that would’ve left his legs bare. Eric wasn’t acting _off_ as far as Soma knew, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that _something_ was up.

But Soma didn’t care enough to ask Eric if something was wrong. It was neither his responsibility nor his business anyway.

Besides, Lindow was meddling enough to ask instead.

“Did you get tired of your new look or something?” Lindow asked while they were on the carrier back from a mission. “You seemed so excited the first time around, so I thought you’d keep it for a while.”

“Huh? Oh, I didn’t...” Eric looked down, lost in thought. “Well, it’s not that I think less of Erina’s choices or anything! I could _never_. And what she picked out was great! It’s just… Well…” Eric stuttered, trying to find the words. Lindow and Soma stayed quiet, giving Eric the time he needed. “...people were…staring.”

...this was coming from Eric, who had attracted quite a bit of attention when he first arrived in the Far East and _loved_ it? Wasn’t it contradictory for him to start getting self-conscious for a little staring?

“Staring?” Lindow echoed. “Is that all? Don’t a lot of people tend to watch you when you walk by?”

What.

“That’s different!” Eric insisted. “They kept staring at my legs! It’s not like the men in the Far East never wear shorts or anything, right?” Eric paused and looked thoughtful for one second, a rare expression for him. “...or is it actually really strange after all?”

Well, it was true that both men and women here had a wide range of options in clothing, so a man _could_ wear (almost) as little or as much as any woman did. The thing is, however, that men in the Far East very rarely chose the option to wear less. And by ‘very rarely,’ Soma meant closer to zero.

But Soma thought it was stupid that Eric would start getting worried over strangers not approving of his (and perhaps, more importantly, Erina’s) taste. First of all, it was no one’s business what Eric wanted to wear, and second of all…

“They were probably just looking at your tattoos.” Soma said. “Nobody in the Far East gets as many as you do.”

“I think so too.” Lindow agreed. “Ink was considered a taboo subject among people my age. Back then, they usually associated tattoos with members of organized crime syndicates… Things might improve with time, though. I don’t think you should worry too much once everyone gets used to you.”

“ _That_ might take a while...” Soma said.

“I know,” Eric said, about to go from fretting over nothing to completely reassured in next to no time, “my presence itself must be terribly overwhelming for those less talented than I!” He smiled to himself, as bright as sunshine. “I feel better now. Thank you, Lindow.” 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Though a soft chuckle escaped him.

“Too late,” Eric said, “my gratitude’s already yours!” He grinned, paused for a second, and then turned his attention to Soma. “And I suppose I should thank you too, Soma.”

“...the hell are you thanking _me_ for?” Soma asked. Lindow was the one who-Soma didn’t care.

“Your execution was a little clumsy, but you get a solid D- for effort.” Eric answered, nodding to himself.

What.

“I knew you two would make great friends.” Lindow said, practically patting himself on the back for his ‘delegating’ abilities while Eric continued smiling insufferably...knowingly...suggesting _something._

“We’re not friends.” Soma said immediately, but Lindow didn’t seem all that convinced.

Whatever. He could think what he wanted. It wouldn’t change the fact that he was wrong.

* * *

Eric normally preferred to sport his usual look (“It’s difficult to improve upon perfection, but I’ll continue rooting for Erina in our quest for fashion!”), but every now and again, he’d try something different. Each new one was about as revealing as the last, typical for Eric’s sense of style. Today he was wearing those shorts again, this time paired with a backless red top. 

At least he’s lively, more like himself again. And as annoying as always.

Soma glanced at the tattoos on Eric’s legs, tuning him out while the gunner talked about something Soma didn’t care enough about. It was a comfortable rhythm, a natural beat, so he ended up letting his guard down again.

“You said they were based on flowering vines, so how come you don’t have any flower designs on them?” Soma asked, the question slipping out of him as easily as he breathed.

Soma never learned.

“I’m glad you asked!” Eric abandoned whatever topic he talking about so quickly, Soma almost reeled. “The flowers don’t bloom all at once. Each bud only opens when their condition is ideal for them, so I’m going to wait until the right opportunity comes along to get my flower designs!”

“...like?” Soma asked.

“Like special occasions! One bloom for every event I want as a reminder of a precious memory, to be a part of me forever!” Eric elaborated. “In fact, I’m going to get my first one here,” he pointed to a spot on his thigh, just underneath the length of his shorts, “when Erina has her Coming-of-age ceremony and becomes an official young noblewoman of House der Vogelweid! And I’ll get one here,” he pointed lower, on the same leg, above the knee, “when Emil finally joins us in the Far East!”

...who’s _Emil_? Eric only ever talked about himself, Erina, mission details, or something unimportant that Soma tuned out. ...maybe Emil fell into that last category.

“Oh, I’ll also need a good spot for when I get a raise.” Eric said. “Or when I get promoted. Or when we finally beat the Aragami. Or when Erina graduates at the top of her class, gets scouted for her magnificent talent, becomes famous, and-”

“You’re gonna run out of room.” Soma said.

“It’ll work out!” Eric insisted. “The flower designs are small, so I can have a lot! And I intend to make many, _many_ magnificent memories!” Eric beamed. “Why, I can even get one when we finally become friends.”

…?

 _‘...aren’t we alread-?’_

Wait. Wait, no. Soma almost made a _terrible_ mistake.

“You won’t get far if you’re aiming for _that._ ” Soma scoffed.

Eric was quiet, an unreadable expression on his face. ...not that Soma ever really understood him to begin with. There wasn’t any sense in someone who kept trying to befriend a person who clearly never thought highly of them.

“We’ll see.” Eric finally said, acting like himself again. “You never know what the future holds.”

…it only ever ended one way. People don’t _have_ a future when they hang around Soma. Everyone near him dies. They _always_ die. And Eric knows this; there’s no way he’s never heard what they say about him, about the inhuman monster, a ‘Death God.’

But Eric still tried to talk to him anyway. It didn’t have to be Soma. He could be having this one-sided conversation with anyone, maybe even someone who didn’t mind that Eric liked to talk about nothing.

If only he weren’t such an idiot.

“Just watch!” Eric said. “If you thought I looked magnificent before, then I’ll look even better when Erina has her Coming-of-age ceremony and marks my first bloom! I wonder if I should get them in different colors… I know the flowers themselves are purple, but red is such a brilliant shade. Or what if Erina wants to pick? I bet she’d like a nice royal blue! What do you think?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking _me_.” Soma said.

“I suppose you’re right.” Eric said. “What would you know about color coordination? Your sense of fashion is appalling after all.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you!”

Whatever. Eric can do what he wanted. It’s what he’d always done anyway.

Soma didn’t care.

* * *

Eric never did get to add any flowers.


End file.
